Hi, I'm Liz :)

I'll start off with a bit of a history:

I was born and raised in Corpus Christi along the South Texas coast. My childhood was a happy one filled with Girl Scout outings, gardening with my dad, and trying to adopt any stray cat I could find.

In eighth grade my family moved to Chatham, New Jersey, a commuter town into New York City. Less than a month into the school year, 9/11 happened. You could see the smoke from the towers from my house and the kid that sat next to me in Civics class lost his dad in the attack... This was my first real run-in with tragedy. Seeing people deal with grief made me feel sad and somewhat uncomfortable. I wanted to help them, but there really wasn't much that I could do. I see Texas 4000 as a way that I can help people going through rough times, and I like feeling like I can contribute to this cause.

Back to my bio...The following year, my family moved back to Texas, to a suburb of Dallas this time. I attended Flower Mound High School where I was in the marching band for a couple of years. I also nerd-ed it up in academic UIL and French Club, where I was famed for making a giant Eiffel Tower costume (made from aluminum foil and carboard).

I started at UT in the fall of 2006 and have been here ever since. I finished my first degree in Biology with a minor in French in 2009, and I stayed around to get my PharmD at UT's College of Pharmacy.

I met Sean, my fiancé, in a Christian organization when we were both freshman. Sean's taken on the role of personal trainer/cheerleader ever since I first joined Texas 4000. In addition to my awesome fiancé, I have a little brother who isn’t so little anymore at 19, and a really great mom and dad who currently reside in San Antonio. I also have a very supportive extended family and group of friends.

As far as activities go I enjoy reading, bird watching, and living in a student-run housing co-op (with neon green walls). I aspire to make each day more about falling in love with life and the people in it.

There is something about riding a bike to Alaska that scares me. Perhaps it is the fatigue or the injuries that may come as a result of the relentless training or the biking of that 4500 miles plus. Or maybe it is the potential that I won’t make it, that I will fall short of my goals and aspirations. I don’t dwell long on these fears, because I know of others who are braver than me against much more intimidating adversaries. I know cancer patients who face fears of being ill or of not making it, yet they keep on going; they keep on fighting. If they can be so brave, then why can’t I? And if they can keep on fighting during the darkest hour of their most difficult days, then why can’t I? Why can’t I ride my bike up a mountain? Why wouldn’t I be capable of riding my bike through the deserts? I am perfectly healthy and fully capable. I can fight alongside those who are fighting now, and fight for those who have fallen.